Alpha Academy
by dishwasherfairies
Summary: Dean and Sam are sent to a special academy for people with gifts. As they learn to control their powers, they find friends and maybe even something more at this weird school. Something sinister is brewing on the horizon for them though. Yes, I know that I should win an award for the most unoriginal title, but it would mean a lot if you would just check this out.
1. Chapter 1

Long car rides aren't exactly Dean's idea of fun. Even with the seemingly endless, beautiful scenery, Dean was still very near brain dead with boredom after six straight hours of luscious green trees and calm blue skies. Sammy looked more enthralled than a twelve year old had any right to in this situation, flitting excited looks between the window and the brochure in his hands.

"They have special classes just for concentration and power-control!" The kid exclaimed, holding the pamphlet out for Dean to see.

"And a swimming pool," he responded.

Sam took a short break from his excitement to flash Dean a disapproving frown. "You really should be more focused on academics," he scolded.

"Yes, Mom," Dean mumbled. He wasn't as happy about this school as his brother. In fact, he had viciously fought with his dad to stay at his normal school with his normal friends, but after Dean melted a table in the cafeteria, no amount of 'he called me a _bitch_ dad' could justify the panic he had caused and so, they were sent to this 'special' school for 'special' kids. Not even his mom had wavered when he set his pleading eyes on her.

'It'll be good for you,' she had said. 'You'll learn to control your gifts there, and you can still come home for the Holidays.'

He had sighed and packed his things loudly and angrily.

So that's what had them all loaded into their Sedan way too freaking early in the morning for unbearable amounts of time.

"And _Naomi Milton _is the principal!" Sam rambled on beside him, looking positively star struck.

"Who?" Dean asked with a slightly furrowed brow.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "Only the most influential Alpha or our era. She is the founder and Head of the entire school." He explained as if the entire backstory of some Alpha principal was common knowledge and Dean was just dumb. "I heard she's an Elite, too," he continued, referring to the rare cases where an Alpha has more than one ability.

"You're such a super-nerd," Dean mocked lightly, rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the mind-numbingly repetitive landscape outside his window.

"We're here!" Mary Winchester shouted happily, startling Dean from his nap and sending Sam out of the car like an excited ball of energy. Dean mumbled incomprehensively and fumbled his way out, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes and groaning at the assaultive sunlight. "Pictures boys, c'mon give me smiles I won't see you until the fall!" Mary pleaded, tearing up at the thought.

Unwilling to further upset his mother, Dean slung an arm over Sam's shoulders and pulled him in close, stretching a mostly false smile on his face and looking into the lens of the camera Mary had pointed at them both. A few seconds later, the camera beeped and Dean retracted his arm and let the smile slide off his face, making way for the grumpy pout that he had wore (and denied wearing) all week.

"Oh, please be good. Mind your manners, and eat something other than hamburgers," Mary fretted, straightening the collar of Dean's leather jacket and then ensnaring him in a viper-like hug that he returned softly but reassuringly. She pulled back to go lecture Sam and viciously flatten his hair, going over a mental checklist of socks and underwear that she quadruple checked they hadn't forgotten.

John approached his oldest son sternly and laid a warm hand on his shoulder. "You know what the drill. Study first, party later, and watch out for Sammy," he told him. Dean nodded his acknowledgement and John gave him a quick, bracing hug. "And enjoy yourself a little. This could be great if you just gave it a chance," John stepped back and gave his oldest one more pat on the shoulder before scooping Sammy up and ignoring his whines of protest.

Dean unloaded his and Sam's bags from the back of their vehicle, handing Sam his and shouldering a duffle containing all he expected to need for the coming months. Mary gave them both one more round of tearful hugs that felt more like chokeholds and before they knew it, John was leading Mary to the vehicle with a supportive arm around her waist and their black Sedan was rolling down the road and out of sight.

Dean watched it go miserably until Sam tugged on his sleeve, whispering his name in awestruck tones. He spun around to face the school, expecting a redbrick building and maybe a jungle gym. What he wasn't expecting was the cobblestone mansion with black, wrought iron fencing all around the perimeter and tangled vines sporting purple flowers woven around the bars. Emerald ivy climbed up the tan walls of the school and an impressive clump of other odd plants were thriving outside one window in particular. Great oak trees made a sort of canopy, preventing him from seeing much else of the yard, but, if it was anything like the front, it was no doubt breathtaking.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" A female voice called from the open gates of the school. They both looked down form the spectacle of a building and focused on the woman walking confidently down the pathway to them. "I'm Missouri Mosely, but you can call me Mrs. Mosely," a short, dark skinned woman greeted them warmly. "I'm the head of the front office here at Alpha Academy. I'll show you in."

With that, she turned, walking back into the school with the boys following. "Now, we have a dorm sectioning based on gender and age. You will be given a list of students that are eligible and you can meet them today before deciding who to room with," she continued, leading them to a small office veiled form the rest of the school with a clear glass door.

She opened it to a small, interesting office filled with physic knickknacks and a desk made of dark wood. "These are a list of names and pictures of the students who have open space for a roommate, I'll leave it up to you to meet them all. And here is a map of the school and your schedules." She handed them each small stacks of paper and Sam was practically vibrating with contained excitement. "First period has already started, so I'll send you with Pamela to show you the way, you can just leave your bags here until you've decided on a roommate, which will need to be done before the end of the day."

She finished her splurge of information by opening a door to the side of her office just as a tall woman with dark brown curls and tinted sunglasses walked through. "Hello, I'm Ms. Barnes, but you can call me Pam if you stay on my good side," she said with a friendly smile. "Follow me, I'll lead you to your classes."

The boys dropped their bags and trailed after Pam down the twisting hallways. Dean felt raw, happy anticipation bubbling in his chest and he sent a glare at Sam. "Stop that," he hissed quietly.

"Sorry," Sam said, not sounding it at all. But he retracted his power none the less, letting Dean resume his skulking. Sam was an empath, meaning he could feel other people's emotions. Sam was a higher class of empath though, actually being able to project his emotions onto someone else if they were close enough.

The walk through the school was quiet and when Pam stopped at one door, telling Sam that this was his stop, the brothers didn't exchange words, just looked at each other and Dean nodding comfortingly at a quivering Sam. Sam gave him a wavering smile before opening the door and walking through.

"Okie dokie, now to your class." Pam chirped. "Alpha History and Government, right?"

"Uh- uh, yeah," Dean stuttered out, jumping to catch up as she marched down another hallways with a call of; 'This way!'.

They arrived at a door marked Mr. Rufus Turner: Alpha History and Government and Pamela gave Dean a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she wished him luck and whisked off down the confusing hallways unwaveringly.

Dean took a deep breath and knocked on the door briefly before opening it and walking in just enough to close it behind himself. The first thing he noticed was a tall, black man standing at the front of the class and yelling at a student in the back row for talking. "I've got super-hearing, Boy, did you really think you could pull one over on me?!"

The boy in question held his head high and looked unrepentant, but relief washed over his face when Mr. Turner's attention was directed away from him by Dean's arrival. "You must be the new student," Mr. Turner greeted brashly. Dean nodded vigorously, skittish around this loud and somewhat seemingly strict teacher. "Well, go ahead and introduce yourself, tell us your power and where you're from," he said, gesturing for him to stand more in front of the class.

Dean strode over and attempted to slip into the cocky attitude that was his default. "I'm Dean," he started and immediately, that plan was shot all to hell as his voice wavered slightly and he decided to just aim for nonchalance. "I do stuff with fire and heat, and I moved here from Lawrence Kansas," he finished, glancing back to the teacher for further instruction.

"You can go sit back by Jo. Jo raise your hand," he commanded offhandedly, going back to the board to write something.

A small, pretty blonde waved her hand in the air at him and he half ran over to sit. "Hi, I'm Jo," she greeted unnecessarily, holding out her hand to shake his.

He took it and smiled back, "Dean,"

"How come she gets to talk?" A kid behind them mumbled disgruntledly, in a voice so quiet, Dean almost didn't catch it.

"Because I like her better, Gabe," Mr. Turner called out, not turning to face him as he continued his work at the board. The kid-Gabe-flicked a forked tongue out at him petulantly.

"That's Gabriel Novak, he's a shapeshifter of sorts, he can take on animal properties, but he can't fully shift," Jo explained quietly. "This is his last year here, he's just finishing up his classes that aren't power-based." Dean nodded, trying to remember everyone's names and abilities.

After a few more classes that were-admittedly-more interesting than the classes he took at home, it was lunch time.

At Alpha Academy, the food they served was unlike any school lunch Dean had ever had. It was actually edible. He piled his plate with a cheeseburger, fries, and-under pressing guilt of blatantly disregarding his mom-a few carrots. Jo called him over to a table occupied by a small group including a guy with a mullet and a stoner-esque feel to him, a petite redhead who was positively _glowing_ with happy energy, a mild looking blond with his napkin in his lap and everything, and a gawky looking kid with the goofiest looking smile Dean had ever seen.

Jo led him over there, pointing out to each person in turn as they took their seats.

"Ash, mathekinesis, which sounds super lame, but he can do some amazing shit with just an equation, Charlie, technokinesis, can hack anything and if it's electronic, she has full reign over it. Adam, healing. And Garth, super speed. As you know, I'm Jo and I have like, super agility. Think ninja, gymnast with fifty years of training, but blonder." Jo rattled off with ease. "Everyone, this is Dean, and he has pyrokinesis, so don't go lighting any matches," she joked lightly

Ash gave him a nod of acknowledgement, Charlie stuck a hand out and beamed her way through a conversation, Adam gave him a polite smile, and Garth put a hand on his shoulder, smiling in a weird, but completely genuine way.

Maybe this school wasn't half bad.

"So, Dean, I take it you haven't picked out a roommate yet," Jo piped up after a while.

"Um- no, not yet," Dean responded, in truth, he had completely forgotten about the whole roommate situation.

"Here, let me help," she said, grabbing his papers and rifling through them. "Urgh, not Gordon Walker. He's a total jerk…Ok, don't even talk to Castiel Novak, he's not good company to keep…Ah, Victor Henrickson. He's not too bad, a bit too by-the-book sometimes, but he's a nice enough guy." The members of the table paying attention muttered in agreement and Dean shrugged.

"Well that settles that," he said, collecting the papers and standing up. "I'm gonna take these up to the office, to tell them I've decided," he called as he jogged off.

Dean was lost, almost unbelievingly so. The halls all looked the same and everything was so perfect in the décor, that every trashcan and wall ornament was in the exact same place every time he made a turn.

It was around his twenty-third wrong turn that he found a group of people harassing a boy with dark, messy hair. The boy was walking down the hall with his head up, as if he didn't see the two people crowding around him, calling out exaggeratedly devastated claims about how hurt they were that he was ignoring them. They were punking on him. Dean had seen it a thousand times in the hallways of his old school every day. Apparently even in a school of freaks, people can still find someone to single out.

Dean was fully prepared to just keep on walking. The kid looked like he was handling it just fine, and assuming it didn't escalate, Dean could just go to the office and file for his nice, normal roommate to kick off his quiet year at Alpha Academy.

But where's the fun in that?

So, of course, one of the guys he recognized from his papers-Gordon Walker-shoved the kid forward hard enough to send him skidding to the ground. When the kid attempted to calmly pick himself up, another person shoved his shoe into the kid's side, tipping him over more forcefully this time.

"Wait just a second, Cassie, we have a question," the one who had kicked him over said in a nasally voice that made Dean cringe internally. "What _is _your power? Do you even have one?" Then, he bent in close to the boy's averted face and grabbed it, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "And is it true you killed your parents?" His last words dropped like stones off a building in the silence, disrupting it with a sharp crash when they hit.

The boy went very still for a moment before he sprung forward, punching his taunter solidly in the nose. It spurted blood all down his front and onto the sparkling tiles of the floor. Gordon instantly grabbed the kid and yanked him back, tossing him into the ground before rounding on him and connecting his fist to his face with a sickening smack.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, racing down to stop the unevenly matched beat down that was about to occur as the other guy picked himself up off the floor, holding his nose.

"Oh, piss off, New Kid," the guy with the broken nose all but whined. "This is really none of your business. Just move along," he finished, sweeping his arms in a wide gesture to leave.

Dean squared his shoulders and opened his mouth, angry retort on the tip of his tongue, when they heard the clicking of heels coming down the hallway. The broken nose kid and Gordon cleared out in a flash, and the kid they left behind jumped up and grabbed Dean's sleeve, pulling him down a few bends until he deemed them safe.

The kid stopped and looked around panicked before he calmed down slightly. That was when Dean got his first good look at him.

It was Castiel Novak.

The same Castiel Novak Jo had specifically warned him to stay away from.

Castiel turned his blue gaze on him and Dean was floored. Sure, he knew the kid had some kick ass blue eyes from looking at his picture, but in person, they were so much…more.

There was about five seconds of awkward silence and eye avoidance before Castiel spun on his heel and started to walk off.

"Wait!" Dean called, jumping to catch up. Castiel didn't wait, but he didn't speed up when Dean matched his pace either. "Are you- I mean- are you ok? I saw that Gordan guy got a good punch in…" Dean trailed off, craning slightly to see the bruise that had blossomed across his cheekbone, startling in the contrast of his pale skin.

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, continuing his march to who-knows-where. "Now can you please leave me alone? I'm very busy."

Dean was taken aback by his cold, short responses. "What, no 'thank you for helping me out back there'?" Dean asked only half-jokingly.

"You didn't help. You shouted. And then Naomi's approach scared them off." He replied.

"Naomi? The principal? How do you know it was her?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Alistair's ability is tracking. He could sense her, and only Mrs. Milton could have frightened him off so quickly."

"Oh, um- well, I'm Dean, Dean Winchester. I've got pyrokinesis…I'm new here…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you," Castiel said in a tone that threatened the sincerity of his statement.

"You're Castiel," Dean continued, feeling like an idiot, but too curious to care.

"As far as I know, yes."

"Oh- um- yeah…what's your ability?" He pressed.

"Elementumkinesis," he said without explanation.

"Elementu-what?" Dean asked, face pinched in annoyance at Castiel's unnecessary complication of things.

"Elementumkinesis," he repeated. "I means to have the ability to manipulate the elemental forces of the universe."

"Oh, cool, which one do you do?"

Castiel sent him a wary, side-eyed glance. "Why do you want to know?" He asked.

"I dunno man, just making conversation. You don't have to tell me."

Castiel went silent for a moment. "Water," he mumbled.

Dean didn't respond for a few seconds, surprised that Castiel had said anything. "Oh, oh that's cool, like just control it or…?" He trailed off, not really sure where he was going with it, but not wanting the conversation to end.

"Here," Castiel stopped walking suddenly, leaving Dean to jerk to a halt. He closed his eyes in concentration, and he raised his hand, curling his fingers slowly. All of a sudden, the air around them got a lot dryer, and a small ball of water materialized in between them. Castiel opened his eyes and they lit up when he saw the water, looking as if he didn't expect it to work.

"That is so cool," Dean whispered, awe-struck. "Can I?" He asked, raising his hand hesitantly. Castiel nodded, so Dean cupped his hand around the ball of water and sent blistering heat waves coursing through it.

Within seconds, it had evaporated, and Castiel was smiling like a little kid, in a way that had his blue eyes absolutely exploding with light. "Amazing," he whispered. Dean's face flushed slightly and he withdrew his hand from the now empty space between them to rub the back of his neck.

"Yeah, it's a bitch to control though," he responded quietly. " 'Speacilly when I lose my temper." He lifted his gaze to meet Castiel's warily and saw understanding and sympathy in his eyes.

"That happens to me a lot," Castiel said, his confession sounding much more dire than Dean's. "I can help you though, I've been working with Crowley, and he says I've been making good progress, so maybe we could work on it together sometime," he offered quickly. "I mean, if you want to. It's ok if you can't or you don't want to sacrifice any hope of a respectable social standing," he went on only a bit sadly.

Dean shook his head, huffing a small laugh. "No, no, I would love to train with you, whenever you want," he said. Castiel nodded with a small smile before he seemed to remember himself and dropped it, expression going blank.

"Well, I'll see you around, Dean," he said crisply before turning and walking down the hall.

"Wait!" Dean shouted impulsively. Castiel jumped and turned cautiously, giving him a suspicious look but not walking away. "Would you mind if- I mean, I saw on the papers they gave me that you didn't have a roommate, and I was wondering if- Well, would it be ok with you if we roomed together? It would make it a lot easier to practice and-um-you don't seem to bad." He said in a stumbling rush, eyes jumping between the floor and Castiel's face, trying to gauge the reaction on his blank face.

"Sure- I- yeah, that would be fine," he responded, voice betraying the disbelief his face wouldn't show.

"Great, uh- I'll just go then, and turn in the papers," Dean said, whirling and walking down a random hall opposite Castiel's direction.

"Um, Dean," Castiel called uncertainly.

"Yeah?" He asked spinning to face him fully.

"That way," Castiel said shortly, pointing down the hall to Dean's left.

"Yeah- um-," Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, moving to walk down the directed hall. "Thanks."

Castiel nodded before turning back and walking away.

Dean sighed at himself and marched onwards, determined not to let Heaven or Hell deter him from his destination this time.


	2. Chapter 2

With Castiel's instruction, Dean made it to the office with only a few more errors. Finally, he turned a corner and saw Mrs. Mosely's clear door that lead to her office. Relief washing through him, Dean half ran up it and went to open it before he heard a scolding voice say; "Boy, you better knock on my door!" Dean jumped slightly in surprise before knocking quietly. "Come in," Mrs. Mosely called cheerfully.

Dean entered her office, closing the door behind him and taking a seat in a plush purple chair sitting in front of her desk. "You got your roommate all sorted out, hun?" She asked before he spoke.

"Yeah, actually, I was going to room with Castiel," he said, handing her the stack of papers that told him who was free to room with.

Mrs. Mosely looked up at that, eyes wide in surprise before her face broke out in a wide grin. "Really? Well I think that is just absolutely amazing, he's a nice boy, really,"

"Yeah, I ran into him into the hall," Dean responded. "We kind of hit it off."

"Good, good," Mrs. Mosely was now digging through a stack of papers spread across her desk. "Well, I'll just get it all sorted out, you can take your bags up to your room, which will be number 674 in the east wing." She explained, handing him a key that had the numbers 674 pressed in the metal. "It should be on your map."

"About the map…" Dean started embarrassedly.

"You lost it already, boy?" Mrs. Mosely pushed her lips into a firm, disapproving line. "Well fine, have another then." She handed him another map from her desk with a demand that he not lose this one because she would let him wander around lost if he did.

Dean nodded and promised to keep it close before he left her office and went down to the dorms with little trouble this time.

On his arrival, the first thing Dean noticed was that Castiel kept a shockingly clean room. Just from their initial meeting, Dean had pegged him as a clean person, but this was just ridiculous. His bed was impeccably made with no wrinkles or bumps to speak of, the floors were spotless and clear of any dirty clothes or trash, and there appeared to be a total of zero personal items from home.

Trying not to dirty anything by breathing too hard, Dean walked over to what he guessed was his bed for the reason that, when he opened the drawers designated to it, they were empty. He dropped his duffle on the mattress and glanced down at his schedule to see that he was supposed to meet with a mentor chosen specifically for his skill sets in room 393. He sighed and trudged back out of his new room, making his way to Mr. Singer's room.

Castiel tried not to smile too much as he made his way to Crowley's to work on his ability focus, but he couldn't keep the small upturn of his lips from happening, so it was in a happy daze that he walked into Crowley's room.

Immediately, a jet of scorching fire shot towards his face. He flung his hands up and shot water back, shouting out in surprise and slight pain as it burnt his hand, but the water took out the brunt of it, saving him from something worse like incineration.

"What the hell?!" Castiel shouted indignantly, now cradling his hand to his chest.

"You have to stay on your toes, Cas, always alert, always ready to defend or attack!" Crowley went on, setting aside the aerosol and lighter he had used to assault Castiel.

"You burnt me, you jackass!" He exclaimed unbelievingly. "There is no way that is allowed in a school!"

"Oh, you're fine," Crowley brushed off. "Couldn't have hurt worse than that lovely black eye your sporting."

"Shut up," Castiel said, turning his face to look out the window.

"They're bloody morons Cas, just focus on what we're doing now," Crowley said, almost sounding like he cared. "Distractions get you incinerated," he went on, somewhat ruining the kindness of his previous statement.

"Now that we've assured you haven't lost your touch with your water abilities, let's work on your secondary ability." Castiel swallowed, wanting to do anything but that. But he nodded anyways, walking forward to the plant Crowley had set out for him to practice on. He reached out slowly and wrapped his hand around the stem loosely. With a few seconds of focus, the flower began wilting, bending over and changing color from a healthy green to a sad brown.

After a few more seconds of Castiel touching it, the once bright, flourishing plant was dead. Castiel looked at it with a sadness someone his age shouldn't have possessed and then to Crowley for further instruction. Crowley nodded his approval and then brought another plant over, setting it beside its fallen brother.

"Now, turn it off and touch, but don't kill, this one," he said, stepping back to let Castiel focus.

Castiel reached out again, zeroing in on the desire to do no harm to the delicate plant on the table. With supreme apprehension, he touched the top, waiting with bated breath to see if it would wilt. After a few seconds of nothing happening, Castiel removed his hand and stepped back.

"Good, you're really starting to get the hang of this, Cas," Crowley said, taking out a bottle of scotch he wasn't supposed to have. "Celebratory drink?"

Castiel shook his head and went over to the dead plant, lifting it slightly and closing his eyes. "Castiel?" Crowley asked, unsure of what he was doing. "Cas, what-" He was cut off when the flower Castiel was holding started to stand back up, regaining green as it went. "Sweet mother of sin," Crowley said, awestruck at the now healthy plant.

Castiel opened his eyes and smiled wearily at the plant before falling over unconscious.

Dean eventually made it to Mr. Singer's room, and knocked before opening the door to find the teacher sat behind a desk, flipping through an old book with yellowing pages. He glanced up at Dean's entrance before resuming his reading.

"Your late," he said shortly in a heavy hick accent.

"I was at the office, getting my roommate and then I dropped off my bags-" Dean started to explain before Mr. Singer waved a hand.

"I'm not that up tight 'bout tardiness, just try not to let it happen again," he said gruffly, standing and going over to another door on the side of his office. "We'll be practicin' in here, so you don't burn down the school," he said, opening the door to a mostly empty room with a few targets.

"Now," Mr. Singer began. "I want you to hit that target with enough firepower to incinerate it," he said, pointing to the farthest target from them. Dean nodded and raised his hand, taking aim. Once he was sure he was going to hit it, he fired.

There was a loud noise like an explosion, and a cloud of smoke obscured any chance of seeing if he hit it. After a few moments though, it cleared and they saw that he had hit, and incinerated, the target. However, he had also done the same to about ten feet of the wall behind it.

A gaping hole showed the outside greenery Dean hadn't gotten the chance to see earlier, and while it was pretty, Dean was still shell shocked by what he'd done. "Awesome," he breathed, taking in the smoldering edges and small fires that still lingered.

Mr. Singer came in with a fire extinguisher and took out the rouge fires before they had a chance to spread. "I said take out the target, not the whole school, ya idjit," he said, though he sounded more impressed than angry.

"Yeah, I got kind of carried away," Dean replied.

"It's no skin off my nose, it's an easy fix," Mr. Singer replied, flourishing his hand lazily at the hole. All of the scattered pieces surged back into place, the burnt ones mending themselves, and they all sealed together, forming a nice, smooth wall like it was never even blown apart.

Dean laughed and went forward to touch it. "Mr. Singer, this is really awesome," he beamed.

"Call me Bobby, son," Bobby replied. "Never will get used to that 'Mr. Singer' crap." Dean nodded and Bobby motioned for him to walk back to where they were standing before. "Now, how about you try that again without blowing a hole in the school this time."

After roughly an hour of intensive training, Dean finally managed to turn the stupid target to a pile of ash without taking down the school. Bobby had said that was enough progress for today and they could work on the rest next time, so Dean decided to head up to his and Cas' room before going to get dinner.

Upon arrival, however, Dean found Cas passed out in his bed, tucked neatly into the covers. His face was even more blank than usual, but a certain easy calmness that Cas could never quite manage when he was conscious blanketed him. Dean paused for a second before going over and shaking his shoulder.

"Cas?" He asked quietly, trying to wake the boy. "Cas, are you coming down to dinner?" Dean shook his shoulder a bit harder and Castiel jolted awake like he had been shocked. Dean jumped back as Castiel flailed a bit before he got his bearings and looked around.

"Dean?" He whispered in a sleep-muddled voice.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "I just wanted to see if you were wanting to come down to dinner."

Castiel let out a small groan before flopping back down. "No, I'm not hungry," he said from where he had burrowed beneath the covers once again. His stomach let out a small growl as if in defiance of his statement.

"Mm hm," Dean hummed, smiling slightly.

"Well, I'm too tired to be hungry," Castiel huffed, sounding more like a petulant child by the minute.

Dean huffed a laugh at that. "I could bring you back something, if you want," he offered, walking to the door and waiting for his answer.

"Mmkay," Cas mumbled before his breathing deepened and Dean left the room to get them some food.

The dinner served by the cafeteria was just as fulfilling as their lunch was, and Dean happily piled his plate high with an array of pasta and meats, adding a few rolls to bring to Cas later.

He got his tray and looked around for Jo and the others for a minute before spotting them at the table they had eaten lunch at.

"Glad you could join us, Dean-o" Charlie chirped from the opposite side of the table.

"Yeah, Cas was completely out of it when I stopped by my room," Dean responded.

The table went silent for a few seconds, tension thickening in the air. "Castiel Novak?" Jo asked warily, her tone begging Dean to correct her.

"Yeah…"

"Why was Castiel Novak in your room, Dean?" She pressed.

"Because," Dean said, wiping his mouth and setting down his napkin. "I am rooming with him."

The tension thickened tenfold after that, with Jo's eyebrows shooting up into her hair. "He's really bad news, Dean," she said before motioning him to lean in more. "People are saying he killed his parents," she whispered conspiratorially.

Dean rolled his eyes. "C'mon Jo, do you really believe what 'people say'?" He asked, sitting back and beginning on his food again.

"Seriously, his oldest brothers Michael and Lucifer take care of them now, something shady went down, I'm telling you. You need to be careful around him," Jo said gravely.

"Well, I don't think so, Cas is really cool, he wouldn't hurt anyone."

A few minutes of awkward silence that Dean tried not to feel as he dug into his food later and everyone was back to normal, Charlie and Ash discussing some kind of computer code that involved a complex equation that everyone else wasn't even close to understanding, Garth and Adam chatting politely about classes and the like, and Jo shooting half worried half reproachful looks between her plate and Dean.

"It's fine, Jo," Dean whispered so as not to draw the attention of the rest of the table and create another deafening silence. "He isn't what everyone thinks he is. He isn't a murderer. He's just a product of the rumor mill, trust me."  
Jo pursed her lips and looked like the definition of unsure, but she nodded tersely and loosened up enough to join Adam and Garth's conversation. The rest of their dinner was spent with companionable chit chat.

Once dinner was over, Dean bid farewell to the group and gave Jo a reassuring smile before wandering back up to his and Cas' room with a couple napkin-wrapped rolls held in one hand.

He walked up to his door and opened the door with a quick warning knock before calling out. "You up yet, Cas?"

Muffled grumbling was his only response.

"I brought you some rolls from dinner," Dean went on, walking to Cas' bed and opening the rolls, letting the scent coax him out of his cocoon of blankets.

With one last groan, Cas flipped the blankets off in a flurry and rubbed his eyes dazedly.

"Whas' at?" He mumbled around a yawn.

"They're just rolls, sorry that's all I grabbed."

It's fine. Thank you, Dean," Castiel responded, draping his blanket over his shoulders and taking the rolls into his own hands.

"No problem, Cas," Dean replied, sitting cross legged across from him.

"Sorry I'm so tired, went a bit overboard during practice today," Cas said sleepily.

"You're fine," Dean shrugged. "At least you didn't blow a hole in the side of the school," he half laughed.

His laugh was brought to more confident volumes as Cas' face scrunched up in gleefuql chuckles. "Really?" He asked with his smile still in place.

Dean nodded, laughs slowly dying off as he took Cas in. His face was aglow with amusement and his eyes were open, looking happy in a way Dean was starting to recognize and enjoy.

"Hey Cas?" Dean asked impulsively.

"Hm?" Cas hummed around a bite of roll.

"Do you want to come eat lunch with me and a few other people?" Dean rushed out before he could change his mind.

Instantly, the light, friendly look vanished from Cas' features, leaving a mostly closed off but somewhat wary expression in its place.

"I don't know Dean-"Cas started, body language plainly stating he was preparing to gently decline Dean's offer.

"C'mon," he pressed. "They're cool, and I promise they'll behave. Really, they just need to get to know you and they'll warm up."

"Do they believe the rumor?" Cas asked in a quiet but heavy tone.

Dean looked down, tightening the corners of his mouth in displeasure. "Kind of," he admitted. "But they wouldn't if they just got to know you! Just, meet them. And if you don't like them, you never have to eat with them again."

Cas pursed his lips and sighed but reluctantly nodded, resulting in Dean's face splitting in a grin as he jumped up and swooped Cas up into an excited hug.

Castiel let out a startled laugh as they tumbled backwards, Dean profusely swearing his friends' good nature and their almost definite change of heart once they met Cas.

Dean drew back after a bit, green eyes still dancing with happiness. "They're gonna love you, Cas, just wait," he smiled.

Castiel returned the smile as sincerely as he could as Dean grabbed what Cas guessed were pajamas and walked to the attached bathroom, whistling.

As soon as he was out of sight, the smile fell from Castiel's face and he looked down at his hands, playing with the bandage wrapped around his burn that the nurse must have put there while he was unconscious. What if they didn't like him at all? Why did he care, he asked himself, although he already knew the answer to that. If Dean's friends didn't like him, it was very likely that Dean would stop talking to him. It was foolish of him to be getting attached so soon after meeting him, he knew, but he couldn't seem to help himself with Dean's bright eyes and friendly demeanor, it was hard not to like him.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door before it burst open to reveal a jubilant Gabriel, balancing a napkin covered plate in one hand and a water bottle in the other.

"Hey, Cassie," he beamed, walking over to him and handing off the food and water before plopping down on the bed next to him. "I heard you had a rough time with Crowley today, how you feeling?"

"Peachy," Castiel replied sarcastically. Gabriel rolled his eyes and looked away before turning back abruptly and grabbing Castiel's face in his hand, turning his head so he could see the other side of Cas' face where not-yet-purple beginnings of a bruise were forming, creating a lovely red splotch sure to darken by tomorrow.

"What's this?" Gabriel asked heatedly.

Castiel brushed his hand away, annoyed at his brother's disregard for personal space. "Nothing," he snapped.

"Really?" Gabriel asked exasperatedly. "Lemme guess, you ran into a doorknob. I thought we agreed you would tell me if this was happening again."

"No, you agreed. I didn't want you to create a problem over it."

"Oh my god, seriously?" Gabriel was beyond upset and had settled on irate at the bruise and Castiel's disregard for it. "_That _is not the problem. The problem is those assclowns thinking they have any right to touch you." Gabriel was pacing now, pointy little horns poking out of his golden brown hair.

"And what the hell happened here?" He continued, grabbing Castiel's hand and gently unwrapping the bandage to reveal a shiny burn.

"Gabriel stop you-" Castiel started angrily, pulling his hand back, but was interrupted by Dean coming out of the bathroom wearing sweatpants and an old shirt advertising a band Castiel had never heard of called Supertramp.

Dean froze, looking between the two of them with startled confusion at their mutual anger and possibly Gabriel's horn. **(A/N: Not even sorry. That one was good.)**

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked awkwardly, looking like he was ready to turn back around and wait in the bathroom for them to be done.

"No," Castiel said. "Dean, this is my brother Gabriel, Gabriel, this is my roommate Dean."

"You got a roommate, Cassie?" Gabe looked surprised and delighted at the prospect, a smile cutting through his frustration.

"Uh yeah,"

"Hm," Gabriel replied, turning to look at Dean with narrowed eyes "Are you an axe or any other flavor of murderer?" Gabriel asked.

"No…" Dean replied confusedly.

"Do you drink? Do you do drugs? Smoke? How old are you? Who are your parents? Do you have any siblings? If so, who? What are your intentions of rooming with my brother, because I promise, if they are backed in any sort of malicious way, I will end you." Gabriel went into rapid fire mode, adopting a more threatening posture as he went, until he had full blown antlers and sharp fangs poking ever so slightly from his mouth.

"Um- no- I don't" Dean stumbled over his words, looking fairly lost but unintimidated in the face of Gabriel's big brother act.

"Just go, Gabe, Dean's not a supervillain in disguise, and I'm fine. I won't be able to meet you for lunch tomorrow because I'll be eating with Dean, but we are still on for whatever you have planned for this weekend." Castiel said monotonously as if he was going through a mental checklist of things to get through before he could kick Gabriel out.

Gabe sighed and ruffled Cas' hair, before tossing a farewell over his shoulder and sauntering out, leaving an slightly overwhelmed Dean still standing by the bathroom door and an indignant Cas furiously flattening his hair.

"Nice guy," Dean mumbled, finally going to sit on his bed.

Castiel hrumphed in an unamused way and rolled over to go back to sleep. "That's one way of putting it."

Dean smiled lightly before he too laid down to sleep. "Night Cas," he called quietly.

It was quiet for a moment before a response came from Cas' side of the room. "Goodnight, Dean."


	3. Chapter 3

Rooming with Castiel was a bit more complicated than Dean was expecting. Not that he was complaining. There was a certain type of endearment Castiel's mannerisms brought out in Dean, not that he would say it out loud.

Like how Castiel switched his alarm off and let out a muffled groan that trailed off into a few minutes of indistinguishable murmuring until he basically threw himself out of bed, shuffling over to his drawers and pulling out his clothes.

"Not a morning person, I guess?" Dean asked sleepily, a tired smile pulling at his mouth.

Castiel gave him a look that could only be described as 'too done to handle your bullshit', and it made Dean chuckle more as he too got up and grabbed his clothes.

About a half hour later, Cas and Dean were dressed, showered and walking down to the cafeteria for breakfast.

Upon their arrival, Cas walked immediately to the staff-only table containing coffee and an assortment of breakfast foods. He twitched his fingers slightly at the faucets visible in the kitchen. They exploded in a burst of high-pressure water and, in the chaos, Cas walked right up to the table and poured himself a tall cup of coffee, his actions unnoticed by the staff that were frantically trying to stop the water, Bobby finally coming in a fixing it with a broad sweep of his arm.

Cas walked calmly back over to Dean, sipping from his steaming cup. "Are you getting anything?" He asked drowsily.

"Um- Cas, you can't just- what?" Dean stammered making half gestures towards a custodian enchanting a few mops to clean up the water.

"I don't do it that often. Just when I'm too tired to sneak over and get the coffee," he replied as if that justified it.

Dean shook his head. "Whatever," he sighed, going to wait in the line for breakfast. Cas followed him, standing just out of the way of the other people waiting. "Are you getting anything?" Dean asked.

"Nah, I'm fine," Cas replied holding up his coffee by way of explanation. Dean rolled his eyes and got extra toast before steering himself and Cas over to the table Charlie and Garth were already inhabiting.

"I thought you said we were having _lunch _with them," Cas said, stopping abruptly.

"We can do that too," Dean said. "It'll be fine, Cas, just trust me." Dean threw his arm around Cas' shoulders and they walked over to the table, Cas clenching his jaw and dragging his feet as if Dean were leading him to his death instead of a short red head and a goofy kid at a lunch table.

Charlie and Garth didn't look up until they were both getting seated. "Oh, hey Dean and...Castiel'" Charlie trailed off, looking at Dean as if for further instruction. He nodded his head ever so slightly, and Charlie smiled at Cas in a way that wasn't quiet as genuine as she usually was, but was polite none the less.

Garth was a good bit more accepting of the situation, not acting off at all. He smiled kindly at Cas and stuck his hand out to shake.

Cas looked at his hand warily for a few seconds before he seemed to brace himself, and shook it, looking relieved that the world didn't fall around them at the skin on skin contact.

"I'm Garth Fitzgerald the Fourth, but you can just call me Garth," he introduced himself kindly.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Castiel," Cas replied quietly, but he seemed a little less anxiety wracked, so Dean took that as a sign of good, forward motion.

"Cas, this is Charlie, she's a total geek, and I guess you'll meet the rest of the gang whenever they decide to wake up and come to breakfast," Dean said lightly.

"Ash doesn't ever wake up in time for breakfast, and Adam is not the nicest person in the mornings, so it might be better if no one directly spoke to him," Garth said, reading what looked like the comic section of a newspaper.

Charlie snorted at that. "Understatement. Adam is a total ass in the morning, don't let that whole, 'politer than a humble monk' act fool you. He's flat out rude before nine a.m."

Dean laughed slightly, assuring Charlie he wouldn't poke the bear before they lapsed into a silence that was most definitely on its way to becoming uncomfortable.

It was thankfully stopped by Charlie before it could reach that stage, however. "Holy smokes, Cas, where'd you get the caffeine?" She asked, eyeing his styrofoam coffee cup enviously.

Cas opened and closed his mouth a few times, lost for what to say before Dean cut in. "He blew up the sink and got some while everyone was distracted," he told her proudly.

Cas flushed, but Charlie was laughing loudly, eyes wide with disbelief. "That's totally awesome!" She said enthusiastically. Cas allowed a small smile to replace the mortification that had bloomed there at Dean's telling of his act, and Dean felt over the moon. They liked Cas. They didn't think he was some crazy murderer. Two down, three to go, he thought.

It took the Jo a surprisingly long time to arrive, and Charlie and Garth were busy having Cas say things in all of the different languages he knew. Dean was astonished to learn that he was fluent in over seven.

Just as Cas was finishing telling Charlie that 'cats are cool' in German, Jo plopped down and started glaring at Castiel who trailed off and glanced at Jo before nervously flitting his eyes everywhere but at the blatantly rude blonde.

Dean gave her a scolding look and jerked his head over to Cas insistently. She sighed but dropped the glare, settling for looking just slightly unhappy and moved her gaze to Cas. "Uh, hi, Castiel, wasn't it?"

Cas looked somewhat alarmed, but nodded none the less. "I'm Jo. You're rooming with Dean, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," he replied, grasping at the short threads of small talk Jo was making.

"I bet he snores a lot," she joked in a way that didn't sound as light as it should have, but Cas smiled none the less, some tension leaving his shoulders.

"I do not snore, for your information," Dean said huffily, sticking his nose up in joking indigence.

"Sure thing, Winchester," she snorted.

"Shut up," Dean replied not unkindly, offhandedly swiping two triangles of toast off his plate and placing them in front of Cas who pursed his lips at the silent order to eat, but took a bite none the less.

They all got along comfortably after that, Adam joining them and even being civil enough to not send a biting remark at Cas, though his usual politeness was replaced by uninterested acceptance. Eventually, the bell rang and they all split, Dean and Jo waking off to Alpha History and Government side by side.

"So…" Dean started, swinging his arms. "You and Cas got along pretty well."

"Yes, we did. He isn't that bad." She admitted stiffly.

"So you don't have a problem with him now?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Not unless he proves himself to be an ass," she said finally, after a few moments of silence.

Dean just smiled.


End file.
